Page 37 of Conflicting Lyrics
“Have you tried reaching out?” he asks. “I think if she knew everything that's happened, she would understand.”
My body tenses. “No,” I murmur. “And I don’t think she would understand. I broke her heart. I fucked everything up. There’s no coming back from that.”
“I think you're wrong,” he says a moment later. “People make mistakes. We shouldn’t spend the rest of our lives beating ourselves up over it. Trust me, if anyone knows anything about that, it’s me.”
I want to believe him. Trust me, I've wanted to reach out so many times.
But at the end of the day, I don’t believe I’m worthy.
I broke her heart. I didn’t choose her right away when I should have.
She deserves to be chosen. Without hesitation. First pick. Every time.
And this life she’s living… she gets to be the star she was always meant to be.
I’m not going to bring any unnecessary stress or drama into her life. She's happy; successful. She doesn’t need me coming into her life and infecting it like poison. I’ve already done enough damage.
I blink a few times,then blink again, wondering if I’m in some kind of alternate universe where the book gods have blessed me with two men only an author with good taste could come up with.
But when I shake my head and find them still standing there, smirking at me like some tattooed gods, I realize… this is not a dream.
“Thank you, book gods. I’m forever in your debt,” I murmur to myself before licking my lips.
“Ah, that depends…” I speak up, finally answering their question. “What kind of help are you offering?” I bite my lower lip, loving the way their grins grow wider.
Okay, so I’m a bit of a flirt. I’m a single Omega, and these men are very much Alphas. I could be wrong, but the way they hold themselves—like fucking gods—yeah, they’re Alphas for sure.
With how similar they look, I’m going to guess they are also brothers, if not twins. Not identical, but pretty damn close.
Both stand tall, at least six feet, if not taller. Their hair is styled in similar ways—longer on the top and shorter on the sides.
There are some differences. One has a longer beard, while the other one has more of a trimmed style.
Also, one has glasses and the other doesn't.
From the exposed skin I can see, they’re probably covered in tattoos.
“When you’re done eye fucking us, we’d love for you to tell us how we can help you out,” the one without glasses teases with a chuckle.
I’m not even embarrassed. Have they seen themselves in a mirror? How can someone not stop and stare?
My lips curve into a playful smile. “Sure,” I answer, giving them both another long look, enjoying every inch of what my eyes are taking in: biker boots, dark jeans, and leather jackets.
A bad boy wet dream.
Eyes lifting to meet theirs again, I jut out my chin. “Okay, I’m done.”
They both toss their heads back, letting out deep rumbling laughs that make me very thankful that I’m far enough away so that they can’t smell just how aroused that sound makes me. Mynipples press against the fabric of my bra, and I resist the urge to squeeze my thighs together.
“You're a spicy little thing, aren’t you?” he chuckles. “I like it.”
“Thanks.” I wink. They slowly approach the car. The one who’s been doing most of the talking runs a hand through his hair as he assesses it.
“Engine trouble?” His eyes flick over to mine.
“Yup. Just started to smoke, so I pulled over.”
He nods, moving to the hood of the car.
